Confessional
by Panda Slippers
Summary: Mark relfects on his growing and changing relationship with Roger that becomes so much more than friendship.
1. Chapter 1 The Beginning

A/N: Ok, so this is my second RENT fic. This was written as a project for English class. We had to do creative writing about anything - it just had to be at least 500 words. My story kind of took on a life of its own and ended up being _much_ longer.

The inspiration was Mark/Roger although I had to change my play so it wouldn't be a Mark/Roger story. I have to go through my play and make it more Mark/Roger because my characters ended up making a life of their own. I hope to publish my play and am sending it off to publishers during the summertime. Wish me luck!

I've left this in its **PLAY FORMAT** because...well...that's how i wrote it. Everything in _italics_ is a stage direction, FYI.

Another important note: **all the dialogue (the stuff in the middle) is flashbacks**. **Everything else is Mark reflecting on the memories and is in present time.**

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**Confessional**

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

_The curtains rise on a mostly darkened stage; the only light should be on Mark. On stage left, there are two sets of chairs set up, back to back, one side facing the audience; the row should be four chairs long. One man is sitting on the far end of the row facing the audience, and another is sitting towards center stage with his back facing the audience. This scene is in darkness._

**Mark**: You know, I never told you how much you rescuing me, that first day we met, meant to me. I was just this kid, barely 19, on my first trip to the city. Do you remember? I was the scrawny kid sitting on the subway with my favorite messenger bag and my camera clutched in my hands. _(Lights come up on subway scene. The harasser is facing front, while Roger is facing back. Harasser makes crude, silent gestures towards Mark. Mark still faces audience.)_ That guy who had been watching me for a few stops finally came up to me and started harassing me. Then you, in all your New-York-rocker-glory stood up and said:

**Roger**: Leave the kid alone_. (The harasser looks Roger over once in his torn blue jeans, beat up leather jacket and shaggy brown hair, sizing him up; wondering if he could take him. A moment of tense silence, then the harasser's shoulders slump ever so slightly as his fists tighten and knuckles turn white, until he walks back to his seat on the other side of the car. Roger sighs and sits next to an empty seat, offering Mark a smile and a once over, his eyes stopping at his camera.)_ You a filmmaker?

**Mark**: _(Turns to make his way to sit next to Roger.)_ I want to be. It's why I came to New York. The city is so photogenic, don't ya think? I mean all the beauty that the city has to offer…the darkness and grit too. It's got everything an artist could want…

I realized I was babbling so I stopped. A silence lapped over us, but not an uncomfortable one. How was it that I had only known you for but a minute, and I was already more comfortable with you than with anyone I had ever known?

**Mark**: _(to Roger)_ Thanks.

I left out a long, slow breath, trying to calm myself – I was thanking a near stranger, after all. A half smile graced your perfect lips.

**Roger**: No prob, kid. _(Pause. Roger seems to be wrestling with himself about something. A shake of his head signals the end of the debate.)_ Where're you staying, kid?

**Mark**: Mark. The name is Mark. And I don't really know...I had planned on finding a hotel or something.

**Roger**: Look, Mark _(puts emphasis on the name)_, I don't do this – ever – but why don't you stay with me? I've got two other roommates, one of whom likes strays. We've got this loft in the East Village. It ain't the Ritz or the Four Seasons, hell it ain't even a Motel 6, but it's a roof and a bed. I can show you around the city. _(Then, in almost a whisper,)_ Look after you.

I was startled by your offer. It sounded like a joke...especially the last part. You looked like the kind of guy who had better things to do with his time than look after this kid you just met. But all it took was one look into those endless green eyes of yours, and I knew you were serious; that you would take care of me. Something in me screamed to something in you. Besides, I could use a friend in the city.

**Mark**: That'd be great…uhh…

**Roger**: Roger. _(Roger sticks his hand out. As they shake hands, they share a smile.)_

In that moment I knew I had found a friend that I would have until the very end.

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So, that was the first chapter. I know it was short, but it was just setting the scene. The other chapters will be longer. I expect maybe 5 chapters or so from this story. The updates should be fairly regular - everything is already written, I just need to change it to Mark/Roger and make everything fit.

What did you think? Please let me know! And let my know if the play format is too confusing. If it is, I will try to make it more story-like. **Please review! **

Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2 Flag Day

A/N: Hey everyone! I got really excited by the great reviews that people had left me about the first part, so I really wanted to get the second part out quickly. I'm about to leave for the **midnight showing** of "Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest". mmmmm Johnny Depp as Jack Sparrow…oh god. He could seriously be reading the dictionary as Jack Sparrow and I would actually sit there and listen to each and every word. Maybe it's the eyeliner – it appeals to the drama geek in me. Any guy who looks that good in eyeliner and isn't trying to be "goth" or "punk". MMMMMM. Yummy. Oh...wow…getting horribly distracted. Oh dear.

**Thank you to all of my reviewers, especially Mlle7Murder **who reviewed both of my fics and **Happiness is a Moving Target** who gave ma a great and **LENGTHY** review.

This story is now dedicated to my first five reviewers, especially those mentioned previously.

**JUST A REMINDER:** **all the dialogue (the stuff in the middle) is flashbacks**. **Everything else is Mark reflecting on the memories and is in present time.** Also, everything in _italics_ are stage directions.

**Disclaimer**: RENT is not mine. The play that this fic is based off of is, however. Also, the idea for Mark and Roger's Flag Day celebration is not mine, I found it in another fic. However our celebrations are COMPLETELY different.

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_Last time: _

**Mark**: That'd be great…uhh…

**Roger**: Roger. _(Roger sticks his hand out. As they shake hands, they share a smile.)_

In that moment I knew I had found a friend that I would have until the very end.

**Confessional**

Chapter 2 – Flag Day

_(Gets up to his position DC. Lights on subway scene fade off.)_

**Mark**: Do you remember that? It seems so long ago. It was thanks to you that I met the whole group. That I gained a family far better than the one I had left behind. It was thanks to you that I met Angel, whose sweet voice has been my moral compass, and Mimi, the comic relief that lifts my spirit. Without you, I never would have met Collins, who became the big brother that I had lusted for since I decided having an older sucked. Collins, who was always there with comfort and wisdom far beyond his years. Without you I never would have met Maureen, wild Maureen, who whispered sweet nothings in my ear, who taught me about life…and about love. Both the sweet, warm beginnings of love and the bitter endings that left you cold with a stale taste in your mouth.

But I digress; this…this isn't about Maureen. This isn't about our friends. This is about us: about the happy memories we've made and crazy things we've done together…like_…(quietly laughs)..._like Flag Day. Do_…(quiet laugh)…_ do you remember Flag Day? How our ridiculous traditional celebration came about? It started, god, it must have been at least five years ago. I had been living in the loft for only four or five months, but we were already inseparable; best friends, comrades, partners in crime. We understood each other on a level that, that seemed impossible for the amount of time we had known each other. It was mid June and absolutely blistering. It was the hottest summer I had ever experienced. _(Lights come up on scene stage right: two chairs and a table, Roger is already sitting in one. While speaking, Mark makes his way over to the other chair._) We were sitting in a little café in the park, trying to keep ourselves cool with lemonade.

**Mark**: Ok. That's it. I'm going back home. It was never this hot in Massachusetts.

**Roger**: What? Are you already running back to little Scarsdale?

**Mark**: If it's cooler than here, then hell yes!

We talked like we always did: of everything and nothing, of somethings and of nothings.

**Roger**: _(Completely out of nowhere.)_ Isn't today some stupid holiday? Some fake holiday or something?

**Mark**: I don't know!

**Roger**: Well, there's a calendar on that wall over there. Go check!

I got up to check, knowing that if I told you to do it, it would end up in a fifteen minute discussion about who should go and why. I decided to skip that part and do it myself.

**Mark**: Flag Day. June 14th is Flag Day.

**Roger**: What's Flag Day?

**Mark**: The hell if I know!

Conversation started up again; then after about a half hour had passed, I asked you something and you didn't answer me. In fact, you weren't even looking at me – you were looking past me! I turned to look at what you were so enraptured with, almost expecting to find some pretty girl. But it wasn't a pretty girl – it was a fountain. A huge fountain filled with water.

**Roger**:_ (without looking at Mark; eyes focused on the fountain) _We should probably do something to celebrate Flag Day, yeah?

**Mark**: _(looks at Roger warily)_ Roger…what are you thinking?

**Roger**: _(in a "persuasive voice")_ And it is awfully hot; it would be nice to cool down, yeah?

**Mark**: Yes…but seriously Roger, what are you planning? It had better not have anything to do with that fountain. I'm pretty sure jumping in the fountain is illegal.

**Roger**: _(looks at Mark exasperatingly)_ Oh, come on. Are you honestly telling me you've never broken some stupid little law like that? Come with me, you know you want to. Just a quick splash, to cool down and celebrate Flag Day!

_(Scene freezes, Mark turns to the audience)_ I actually allowed myself to be talked into jumping in the fountain. It was fun, though. In fact, we had a blast. We acted like five year olds, splashing and throwing water at each other. Eventually a police officer came over to us and told us to get out of the fountain. We didn't. He told a few more times, but we didn't move; we barely acknowledged his presence, we just kept splashing around. After a few more tries he and one of his officer buddies pulled us from the fountain and we had to stay overnight in jail.

**Roger**: _(unfreezes, with laughter in his voice) _It's an adventure, right?

We've done it every year since then. Each time drinking lemonade at the same café, then jumping into the fountain and staying there until the police officers drag us from it and bring us to the jailhouse to stay overnight. I never did figure out how it celebrated Flag Day, though. I guess that's the beauty of it. _(Mark does not move – next scene will be played in the same space as the café scene.)_

Stupid things that we always did, stupid things like that…those are my favorite memories. Don't give me that look. I know that it's not like everything has been easy for us. I remember the bad times too, ok? I just prefer to reflect on the good times; on the strengths in our relationships rather than the weaknesses and faults. I want this to be a happy conversation. I'm the optimist right? That's what you always said. You used to say…

**Roger**: _(Seated as in scene before.) _You're the one who could find the good in everybody. You could find the best in a damn murderer on Death Row, and somehow have empathy for them. 'It's just how they're raised', you would say. 'It's in their nature, they can't help who they are.' You're the one who finds the beauty in everything.

**Mark**: _(uncomfortable with his gentle honesty, Mark interrupts, trying to lighten the situation)_ It's just because I'm a photographer. It's what I do, the artistic eye and all that jazz. _(Roger sighs.)_

I don't think you were used to these deep speeches. It wasn't really your type of thing – more of mine, really. But it seemed important for you to say, so I let you finish.

**Roger**: No, it's _why_ you're good. Mark, you're the type of person who can somehow always see the rainbow, even before the storm is over. It's like you have these magical glasses that show you where to look. And you share the glasses with other people. You come into a person's life, which seems screwed up and going nowhere and somehow show that there are good things which a person should be grateful for. You give people joy, because you show them what it is. You care. You honestly care, even about people you've never met. You want to help them, to better their lives. You're the eternal optimist.

Your rare profundity was a bit of a shock; it took a moment for your words to sink it. You looked at me then with such honesty. Any joking that might have been in your tone was suddenly gone.

**Roger**: Don't ever change. There are too few of you in this world to begin with_. (Lights go down. Mark gets up and moves towards her spot at DC.)_

I never forgot that. Those last three lines. Never. They were always with me. When I was feeling down or helpless, feeling like I wasn't making any difference, I remembered what you told me. It kept me trudging on. It gave me hope that maybe I was making a difference, that maybe I was helping people. Maybe I was getting people to see the best of things, to see the truth in things. I think those three lines made more of an impact on me than any other words anyone would ever say to me.

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_End of Part Two._

Ok,ok, I know that Scarsdale is supposedly in New York, but I really wanted it to be in Massachusetts…so I made it in Massachusetts.

I really hope you liked it. Please review! It gives me a natural high so I don't have to resort to herion….


	3. Chapter 3 The Good and The Bad

A/N: Sorry I've been so long on this. Especially since this is such a short chapter. My uncle was visiting and we saw _Spamalot_ and I've had no time to write. So let me say: I AM SO SORRY! The next update will be up in a day or two. PROMISE.

I dedicate this chapter to **Bayleigh Anne **and my anonymous reviewer.

**JUST A REMINDER:** **all the dialogue (the stuff in the middle) is flashbacks**. **Everything else is Mark reflecting on the memories and is in present time.** Also, everything in _italics_ are stage directions.

**Disclaimer**: RENT is not mine – however much I would love to own Mark. Ohhh the things I would do to him… The play that this fic is based off of is, however.

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_Last time:_

**Roger**: Don't ever change. There are too few of you in this world to begin with_. (Lights go down. Mark gets up and moves towards her spot at DC.)_

I never forgot that. Those last three lines. Never. They were always with me. When I was feeling down or helpless, feeling like I wasn't making any difference, I remembered what you told me. It kept me trudging on. It gave me hope that maybe I was making a difference, that maybe I was helping people. Maybe I was getting people to see the best of things, to see the truth in things. I think those three lines made more of an impact on me than any other words anyone would ever say to me.

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**Confessional**

Chapter 3 – The Good and The Bad

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You've changed me – in a good way I mean. When I came to the city, I was scared and timid and shy. I felt so out of place. But being friends with you gave me confidence. The confidence gave me the determination to stay in the city and pursue my dreams; the same way you were. You were the single most determined person I had ever met. You were going to make it; you were going to be a music legend. You were going to write songs that you would play when you became famous and everyone would love. You were going to touch people with your poignant lyrics. Rog, you were the one who got me my first film showing where people first started to see my documentaries. _(Roger is stage left. The first bit of dialogue Mark is still DC, just facing Roger.)_

**Roger**: Hey, what're you doing next Thursday?

**Mark**: Me? Nothing. Why?

**Roger**: _(Slyly)_ Oh, it's nothing, really. You just have your own film showing at that art store in SoHo you're always going on about.

I didn't believe you at first. I mean, you had no contacts in the art world – how could have gotten me a showing? But the happiness that shown in your eyes told me you were serious. A huge smile broke out onto my face and I threw myself into your arms.

**Mark**: _(Runs to Roger and embraces him in a brotherly hug. Roger laughs at his rapture.) _Oh my god Roger! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can't believe you did this for me! _(slight pause with a pensive look on his face)_ How did you do this?

**Roger**: _(With a secret smile upon his face.)_ A magician can never reveal all his secrets can he?

You never told me how you got me that showing. I brought it up a couple years later, and you still refused to tell me.

**Roger**: It's in the past. It happened. You're a great photographer, and now people know it. That's all that matters.

Then you flashed me that smile of yours, the one you seemed to reserve just for me. My heart melted, and I let it drop. _(Gets up as lights begin to fade.)_ That's another thing I have to thank you for. Not only did you rescue me, introduce me to my new family and a new love (which I can't regret, even now), you started my career. It's thanks to you that I am where I am right now.

_(Pause. Mark reflects for a moment.) _You always seemed so strong, so independent. You laugh as I say it, but it's true. There's this quiet strength about you. It's in your eyes; in the way you carry yourself. It's that very strength which I depended on so many times: when my father disowned me, when my films got rejected time and time again, when I was lonely or frustrated, when…when Maureen left. God, when Maureen left I relied on your strength to get me through the day. I thought the pain would never end; it hurt so bad and I had to constantly remind myself to breathe. I couldn't understand it – I had thought we were happy. I had thought she loved me. I didn't understand how she could cheat on someone she loved - even though some part of me knew she wasn't being true to me, her fessing up to it really hurt. I couldn't understand what I did – or didn't – do to make her…to make her…well, to make her a lesbian. Was I that bad as a boyfriend? Was I that bad a kisser or lover? I was doubting everything and had never felt so ashamed or low in my life. Your soothing presence and reassuring words kept me going through those dark days.

**Roger**: _(comes DC to Mark, and holds him from behind)_ She's an idiot. You're amazing, Mark. You're intelligent, and extremely artistically creative and talented. You easily have the purest heart of anyone I've ever met. Don't let that bitch tell you other wise. You don't have a high enough self image as it is; don't let her lower it any. She's not worth it. That slut never even deserved you. You _will_ find love again. And the new girl will realize what a treasure she found, and will treat you like you deserve. I promise. _(Roger gives one last squeeze, before quietly walking away.)_

I made you promise me that so many times. I didn't think then that it could ever be true.

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_End of Part Three_

Sorry about how short this is. Think of this as a transition chapter. The next one will be longer – promise.

**PLEASE REVIEW.** It's only because of Bayleigh Anne and her quick review that I didn't have to resort to heroin. I would like to try for **four** reviews before I put the next chapter up. They don't even need to be long. **Just a quick note saying if you like it or what I can do better on. PLEASE!**


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